Love is much nicer to be in than an automobile accident, a tight girdle, a higher tax bracket or a holding pattern over Philadelphia.
There is a time in our life when we need to strut our stuff and groove on grandiosity, when we need to be viewed as remarkable and rare, when we need to exhibit ourself in front of a mirror that reflects our self-admiration, when we need a parent to function as that mirror.
No-fault guilt: This is when, instead of trying to figure out who's to blame, everyone pays.
We will have to give up the hope that, if we try hard, we somehow will always do right by our children. The connection is imperfect. We will sometimes do wrong.
Our daily existence requires both closeness and distance, the wholeness of self, the wholeness of intimacy.
For many men the denial of dependency on their mother is repeated in their subsequent relationships, sometimes by an absence of any sexual interest in women, sometimes by a pattern of loving and leaving them.
I don't intend to stop showing a little cleavage. Nor do I intend to stop flashing a little thigh.
I could be such a wonderful wife to another wife's husband.
[On writing her first poem at age eight:] An ode to my dead mother and father, who were both alive and pretty pissed off.
Some days are like that. Even in Australia.
I think I'll move to Australia.
If his mother was drowning and I was drowning and he had to choose one of us to save, He says he'd save me.
many of us are done with adolescence before we are done with adolescent love.
There is a time to separate from our mother. But unless we are ready to separate-unless we are ready to leave her and be left-anything is better than separation.
If ambitious fantasies make people blush, and sexual fantasies make people blush and feel guilty, fantasies of violence and death may make people blush and feel guilty-and frightened too.
Living with golden fantasies of an endlessly nurtured infancy can be a neurotic refusal to grow up.
Our mother gives us our earliest lessons in love- and its partner, hate. Our father-our "second other"-elaborates on them.
Craving that old sweet oneness yet dreading engulfment, wishing to be our mother's and yet be our own, we stormily swing from mood to mood, advancing and retreating-the quintessential model of two-mindedness.
Our early lessons in love and our developmental history shape the expectations we bring into marriage.
Adolescence involves our nutty-desperate-ecstatic-rash psychological efforts to come to terms with new bodies and outrageous urges.
Serious skeptics, true believers, and seekers of every stripe will want to read Mitch Horowitz's vibrant, probing, and richly researched account of the impact of the positive-thinking movement on every aspect of American life today. Filled with a cast of remarkable characters and many lively tales, One Simple Idea is a readable, responsible examination of the limits and possibilities of mind-power as a source of constructive transformation.
We have to divide mother love with our brothers and sisters. Our parents can help us cope with the loss of our dream of absolute love. But they cannot make us believe that we haven't lost it.
A normal adolescent is so restless and twitchy and awkward that he can mange to injure his knee--not playing soccer, not playing football--but by falling off his chair in the middle of French class.
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